A Mother Always Knows
by misskaterinab
Summary: The proposal prompts Burt to pass along to Kurt an item that his mother had set aside. General plot spoilers from 5x01.


_A quickie about what might've happened after the proposal._

* * *

*knock knock knock* came the sound from the entrance to the loft. If a knock could sound cheerful, it would.

Kurt's face lit up and he bounced up from the well-loved but fashionable sofa he'd been lounging on, tossing the back-issue of Vogue he'd been distractedly paging through to the side.

He skipped (which he would later vehemently deny) to the door and yanked it open, only to reveal a large bouquet of red roses and not much else. Kurt's heart briefly leapt to his throat - he remembered the last time he had been greeted at his door like that with flowers, and it was not a happy time.

"Do over?" the sheepish voice of his fiancé came from behind the roses. Blaine peered around the bouquet and looked hopefully at Kurt.

Kurt grinned at Blaine's eager face. How could he resist this beautiful boy?

"Oh, Blaine, of course. Gosh, they're gorgeous. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I kind of hoped I could make a better memory for you this time around. You never really got to enjoy them last time," he said sadly.

"Water under the bridge, honey. We're in such an amazing place right now, I don't want to dwell on anything less pleasant. C'mere, you!" Kurt said, setting the flowers to the side and throwing his arms around Blaine. "Did you grow or something since I saw you in person last? You seem taller."

Blaine smiled softly. "I think it's because I'm standing so much taller now. I feel so much more confident and ready to face the world. You see, about a month ago, I proposed to the boy I've been absolutely madly in love with for several years now, and he said yes."

"You better be careful about that growing thing," Kurt teased. "I hear this boy of yours would be awfully disappointed if your head didn't fit into the crook of his neck just so when he's holding you close like it always had."

"Hmmm..." Blaine contemplated. "We better test that. You know, just so I don't get into trouble with him or anything." Blaine snuggled into Kurt's shoulder, right into the place that made him feel the most safe. "Perfect fit. I don't think he has anything to worry about."

Kurt hmmm'ed in contentment and squeezed Blaine even tighter. "Nope, don't think he does."

They stood, lost in each other's arms, for what seemed like hours, until the comfortable silence was broken, nay, _shattered_, by a screeching brunette tornado.

"BLAAAAAIIIIINNNNEEEE!" squealed Rachel, practically knocking Kurt over in her haste to get to Blaine. Thankfully Blaine was able to catch Rachel before she caused any damage to herself or others.

"Hey Rachel," he said, shaking his head but grinning all the while.

* * *

After having a meal of the best pizza Bushwick had to offer, Kurt and Blaine lay in Kurt's bed, sated and happy (the noises Blaine made while _thoroughly_ enjoying his meal causing Kurt to kick out his roommates and drag his fiancé to the bedroom). They were curled up in each others' arms, still working to bring their breathing to normal, and Blaine had Kurt's left hand in his, idly stroking the silver band around his finger.

"It suits you," Blaine said, twisting the ring slightly so it would gleam in the moonlight streaming through Kurt's window.

"I love it," Kurt confessed. "I catch myself staring at it a lot." He chuckles. "I've caught a few disappointed looks from some of our patrons at work, too."

Blaine exclaimed, "They should be! I know I'd be pretty damn bummed if I hadn't been the one to 'put a ring on it.'"

"All right, Beyonce," Kurt said with a wry smile. Then the look on his face suddenly turned thoughtful. "Speaking of..." He hopped out of bed, grabbing his briefs that had been tossed to the floor, and slid them on.

Blaine gave Kurt an exaggerated pouty look. "Kurrrrtttt, do you have to?"

Kurt chuckled. He crossed the room, clicked on a dim lamp, and knelt in front of a large cedar chest. "C'mere, pervert."

"There's nothing pervy about enjoying how my future husband looks _au naturel_," he grumbled, but he grabbed his own underwear and joined Kurt by the chest as he put them on.

Kurt rummaged through the chest until he found a small intricately carved wooden jewelry box. He sat, legs crossed in front of him, and placed the box almost reverently in his lap. Then he looked up at Blaine. Blaine, sensing this was story time, grabbed Kurt's hand and sat back to listen.

"Normally, when my dad drops me off at the airport after a visit, he gives me a quick hug in the cab of his truck and says, Love ya, Kurt. See you soon. And then I grab my own bags out of the back and am on my way. But on the day of your epic proposal, it was a little different. He pulled up the curb, like usual, but he cut the engine and helped me with my luggage. After a nearly too long to be comfortable hug, he turned and unwrapped this box from a blanket he had hidden on the floor. He said, 'Your mom left me this for you. She said I would know when the time was right to give it to you, and today is that day. We were interrupted by an airport cop who thought we were taking far too long, so I slid it in my bag and promptly forgot about it. I guess the enormity of the day had caught up with me and I simply didn't have the brain power or capacity to think about anything else that day."

"I don't blame you," Blaine said. "My brain was mush the rest of that day. The happiest mush in the world, mind you, but mush nonetheless."

Kurt smiled and continued. "It wasn't until a couple of days after I had gotten home that I finally made time to unpack and came across the box again. I opened it and was immediately met with my mom's perfume. The scent was only barely present, but to me, it was strong enough to nearly bowl me over.

"There were just two items in the box. One of them was a note." Kurt opened the box just enough to allow a single piece of stationary to slip through the opening. He took a deep breath and began to read.

_"My Dearest Kurt,_

_Every once in awhile you come across a piece that speaks to you, that nearly begs you to hear its story and to create your own magic with it. I saw this piece today, and I knew... I knew that somehow, in some way, it would be incredibly meaningful to you, and that it would play an important part in your life. I don't know how I knew, and I have no idea what it actually means, but I bought it and am putting it away for you. I hope it finds you well and happy. I trust you'll know exactly where it belongs._

_Love,_

_Mom."_

Kurt stopped to brush away a tear or twelve that had escaped as he spoke. Blaine crawled over to the tissue box on the table beside Kurt's bed and snatched a handful to give him. Kurt accepted them gratefully and blew his nose noisily.

"I was really kind of floored when I opened the box," Kurt continued after a beat. "Blaine... it was like my mom had never passed away, like she had _always_ been by my side through my entire life so far. She's been gone for so long, but she knew the nineteen-year-old Kurt I am now just as well as she knew the eight-year-old Kurt I was then. She was right. This has more meaning than any of us could've known then, but _she did._"

"Kurt, the suspense is _killing_ me. Are you going to show me or not?" Blaine whined impatiently.

"Hush, I need to do this right. Up! Put your clothes back on. I'm not going to do this almost naked."

"Do what?" Blaine asked, but a quick glare from Kurt had him scooping up his discarded clothing from the floor and hastily dressing. Kurt scrambled into his own clothes and then caught his fiancé's hand, guiding him to sit on the end of the bed beside him. He picked up the box and grabbed a tiny object from it, obscuring it with his hand.

"Blaine, I know we've already done this before, and I'm not even going to try to beat it, but..." Kurt said, sliding off the edge of the mattress onto the floor below, landing on one knee at Blaine's feet. "Blaine Anderson, my amazing friend, my one true love, will you marry me?"

"Duh, Kurt, of course! I'm the one who asked you! You didn't need to - _ohhh."_ Blaine gasped as Kurt slid a cool, metal band around his left ring finger. His jaw dropped as he stared at the ring, taking in its design.

The more he looked, the more he was beginning to see why Kurt was so shocked by his mother's gift to him. It was absolutely stunning. The patinaed silver band was etched with two little black birds with music notes floating away from their beaks. The birds had tiny bejeweled eyes - one a vibrant blue-green, the other a rich toffee color. The ring was a bit old-fashioned, but still fashionable, kind of just like Blaine.

"Kurt... how? How did she _know_?" Blaine asked, completely baffled by its perfection. "It's like it was commissioned to fit our lives perfectly!"

"And your hand, too. It's exactly the right size."

"I just... blackbird? Warblers? The colors?"

Kurt shrugged. "Believe it or not, this is not the first thing like this that's happened as far as my mom is concerned. I've stopped questioning it. 'It is not ours to reason why,' or however that old poem goes."

"Wow," Blaine breathed. "I really wish I could've met your mom. She sounds like she was a treasure."

"She really was," Kurt replied wistfully.

"As are you," Blaine added.

Kurt smiled softly. "You flatter me."

"Enough to get you back out of your clothes?" Blaine said with a wink.

Kurt reached back and grabbed a pillow, smacking Blaine on the head with it. "You _brat._ I thought we were having a moment there!" He was laughing as he chastised Blaine. He couldn't help it.

"We were! And now I'd like to have a different kind of moment. Another proposal calls for another round of engagement sex!"

"You're definitely a pervert," Kurt said, shaking his head. "But I like the way you think."

* * *

_A/N: It's been a long time I've written, and I know it probably shows. Sorry 'bout that. But I had writer's block for months, and then a severe case of don't give a fuck in September when my mom passed away, so if this isn't up to snuff, it's just me BEGGING my muses to let me get back into writing. 'Cause I miss it, and I really kind of need it right now. Thanks for reading :)_


End file.
